Summer Realms
Campers, trailers, trucks, and cars stacked
they come with gear and families packed
They fill the cabins and the lodge
with mothers fathers kids and Gramp 'pas hodgepodge
Gram ma's shuffle and scold
"Wear your jackets, don't catch cold! "
Kids run with glee to waters shore
back again to resorts store
"What lure, how deep the bite?" questions asked
Boats are launched , lines are cast
"How did you do?, "Not a bite"
Still the fish jump from morn till night
Under the summer moon ,
hear the cry of the mother loon .
Protecting her chicks , so few
from the eagles that high on wing , stew
The full moon a site on high
as the wind through the pines whispers and sighs
A somber related quiet camp
a few sing softly by the light of the gas lamp
A peaceful night of sleep
dreaming of the fish that await in the deep
Than long before the dawn
stumble to the boat stifling a yawn
Dawn slowly breaks in crimson hues
over water silent in deep blues
Lures are fixed, baited, and trolled
jackets are doffed, shirt sleeves are rolled